


The List

by mia2323



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bellarke, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Romance, Self-Discovery, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4478678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia2323/pseuds/mia2323
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Wells Jaha died, he left so much more than a small summer bucket list. [Modern AU. Bellarke]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The List

**Author's Note:**

> [A/N: So here is my new Modern AU story idea. I'm super excited about it. It will probably be about thirteen or so chapters! It it very very loosely based off of Morgan Matson's _Since You've Been Gone_ , which I highly recommend in general. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! Please do let me know what you think and don't hesitate to come find me on Tumblr: **augustusblakee** :)]

**Two Years Before**

Clarke Griffin was exhausted. 

Her bones are absolutely aching but she continued to run side by side with the boy beside her. The sun was beginning to rise and she could think of plenty of other things she would rather be doing than running this early in the morning. Number one of these things is to be in bed asleep. 

But she made a promise to best friend and she intends to keep it (and to be honest, she knew more than anyone that Wells Jaha would drag her out of bed even if she continued to lay there).

They were running along the coast so the light breeze was enough to keep her cool but not enough to get her to stride faster. 

Her headphones were blaring in her ears and she would swear to anyone that David Bowie was actually helping her run along the pavement even if it didn't look that way. 

She sighed in relief when Wells started to slow down next to her. She took in his form and rolled her eyes. He didn't even look like he had broken a sweat and she knew without looking in the mirror that her face was red and her hair was even more frizzy than usual. 

She hastily pulled out her headphones when they finally started walking. 

She followed him toward the small bench overlooking the water and happily collapsed onto it. 

Wells laughed and he stretched his arms above his head. "You're going to cramp up."

She waved him off and continued to take harsh breaths from her spot. "Why do I do this?"

Wells continued to laugh but it was the kind of laugh that was light and filled with compassion. "You're the one who wanted to be on the cross country team with me next fall."

"I'm beginning to regret this." She stretched her legs out and rolled her ankles out with another huff. She grumbled as Wells took a seat beside her. "You're going to cramp up." She mocked with a slight smile. 

Wells hit her arm with his elbow as he looked out to see the sun slowly but surely making its way up in the sky. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

She took in the morning colors. The blues and violets sitting against the soft yellow in the sky. It made her fingers itch for pastels and it made her breathing coming out softer. "Yeah, it's something."

Wells was quiet and from his headphones she could hear the soft piano of whatever classical piece he was listening too. She always thought that it was so strange how he listened to music that had no words when he ran but sitting here alongside him and watching the sunrise, she couldn't picture anything else that would better suit the moment. 

She turned her head and realized the expression on his face. She elbowed his arm. "What's that look for?"

Wells smiled a smile that was real and full of wonder. "It's just nice." He gestured around them. "Sitting here and taking it all in."

His words weren't poetic or something that would change mountains but it made her sit still for another moment. She heard birds chirping, cars moving and waves crashing. It truly was amazing all in its own way. 

But in typical Clarke Griffin style, she rolled her eyes and elbowed him as she slowly stood up. "If I'm going to finish this mile we better get going, Jesse Owens.” 

His laughter filled her ears and before long, they were falling in stride together as they finished the last mile of their run. 

With harsh breaths and shaky legs, she found herself walking up the driveway of the Jaha home. It was the biggest house in the neighborhood but knowing his parents like she did, she didn’t expect anything less from a family involved completely in politics. 

She followed Wells into the kitchen and looked for the picture she knew would be attached to a cheap New York, New York magnet. It was of the two of them from so long ago. Her hair was in two braids instead of one and her smile was wide as she pushed her face against Well’s. They were young and small but even then they knew they would be best friends for life.

She took a seat at the kitchen table and mumbled her thanks when Wells placed a purple gatorade before her. Purple gatorade’s were the best ones. 

As she took a lingering sip of the refreshing liquid, she realized she we alone in the spacious kitchen. She finished half of her gatorade by the time Wells made his way back into this kitchen. He made his way to the seat across from her and slid over whatever he had gotten upstairs.  
  
She tilted her head and took in the envelope addressed to her and the book that lay underneath it. _Of Mice and Men_. 

“What’s this for?” She didn’t wait for a response as she flipped the envelope over. There was a red seal of his family’s crest sealing the letter and a small note that said, _‘love always, w’_. She gently pulled open the envelope and pulled the neatly folded letter out.

Wells still didn’t say anything as she took in the small letter and his perfect handwriting. 

_Clarke’s Summer Bucket List_

_-Swim during the sunrise_  
_\- Read every Steinbeck book (there will be a test on this later)_  
_\- Become a better runner!!_  
_\- Call at least three people “Lassie”_  
_\- Be a tourist for a day_  
_\- Eat the weirdest flavor ice cream at Grounders_  
_\- Learn to ride a bike (honestly what fifteen year old can’t ride a bike, Griffin)  
_ _\- Make Jake bake (see what I did there?)_

_Try not to miss me too much._

_W_

She looked back at him. “What’s this?” 

Wells shrugged and smiled at her. It was a smile that would make a politician jealous and also a smile that would make any girl in their grade fall in love with him more than they already were. “You’re spending an entire summer away from me. I couldn’t let you go without something to do.” 

She rolled her eyes but felt a smile make its way toward her face. Leave it to Wells Jaha to make the fact that she had to spend her entire summer away with her father something more than an epic reminder of her parents failed relationship. 

She glanced back at the list and smirked. “Every Steinbeck book or just the good ones?” 

Wells laughed but then turned very serious. “Every Steinbeck book is a good book.” 

She shook her head but clutched the letter and book toward her.

...

**Now**

She was wearing a black dress that itched no matter how she sat or stood. 

The dress was new. It still smelled like the department store her mother had picked it up from. She never needed a formal black dress before. 

Her eyes burned from how many times she cried but the more she found herself crying, the more she found herself falling away from feeling anything at all. 

Death. The word itself was cunning. 

As she stared at the coffin as it was lowered into the ground, she found herself thinking of long division problems. As she recited the steps in her head maybe the situation she was in would be nothing but a math problem she couldn't solve. 

As the Jaha's took their last glance, she realized this wasn't the case.

It took her a few moments before she actually felt her mother’s hand on her arm. She turned to her suddenly and tried not to take in the look her mother was giving her. It was a look that everyone seemed to give her. 

"Everyone is going to the house." Her mother paused. "Or would you just want to go home?"

She shrugged because she didn’t know what she wanted to do. She wanted to scream and she also wanted to text Wells and have him respond. She wanted the constant pain to go away. She wanted a lot of things. 

“Clarke?” She turned her head the same time as her mother did as Thelonious Jaha made his way toward them. His suite we entirely black making his skin look even darker than usual. His face was coated in a light beard and she couldn’t think of a single memory that involved him having one. 

She wondered what she looked like. Did she still look the same or did she look like someone whose best friend was dead.

She crossed her arms and nodded toward Thelonious. She felt her pulse racing. Was he going to confirm her thoughts? Was he going to curse the day she was born? Her hands shook as she dug her nails into her skin. 

Thelonious gave a nod back before her turned toward her mother. “Abigail, can you give us a minute?” 

Her mother took a moment before she nodded. “Sure, that should be alright.” She turned her head and widened her eyes at her mother. Her mother didn’t say anything at the look she was giving her. “I’ll be in the car, Clarke.” 

She watched her mother go before she turned toward Thelonious. She offered him a small smile but it didn’t feel right on her face. She bet it showed. 

“How are you doing?” Thelonious asked. His voice was strong and she thought about his press conference two nights ago when he talked about the loss of his son. The conference itself of was blur to her until they showed a few pictures on the screen. More than half of the photos had her placed right beside her best friend. Her favorite picture of them wasn’t shown though. And for that she was grateful, she wanted a piece of him that wasn’t shown on nation wide television.

“I’m alright.” She found herself saying quickly with a nod of the head. “How are – how are you?” She glanced at the ground.

“We’re doing alright.” He shoved his hands into his pockets but quickly pulled out the letter that was folded into it. 

She felt her breath hitch. 

“We found this yesterday.” He said softly as he placed the small envelope into her palm. She shakily turned it over and saw the familiar red seal and the same handwriting he always left on the back of any card he wrote her, _‘love always, w’_. 

She didn’t look up as she nodded her head. She flipped the letter over a few times in her hands before she looked up. “Thank you.” 

Thelonious nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaving them there. “I hope you know how much he loved you.” 

It stung. The words. The thought. All of it. She held the letter in her hands and found herself stopping from crumbling it in her hands. “I know.” He was her best friend. He was her person. And now he was gone.

“Very well.” Thelonious said as she straightened up. She watched as his face transformed right before her. He no longer looked like the vulnerable man who had just buried his son, instead he looked like the politician he was born to be, the politician he was. “Don’t be a stranger, Clarke.” 

She nodded even though she knew right then and there, she would never step foot into the Jaha’s home ever again.

She looked down at the letter in her hands as she walked toward the red Jeep her mother was currently sitting in. She took a breath and lightly walked on the window. 

Her mother smiled softly as she rolled down the window. She could feel the air conditioning against her skin. “You alright?”

She clutched the letter in her hands. She toed off her shoes and held them toward her mother. “I’m going to run home.” 

She watched her mother’s face and saw the familiar concerned glance make its way back onto her face but she still asked, “You sure?” 

She nodded and watched her mother place the small heels on the empty passenger seat. She didn’t offer more before she turned and ran away from the cemetery.

Running away from all of it.

...

The letter lay on her desk unopened. 

She towel dried her hair as she stared at it. She dropped the blue towel and made her way toward her desk. She ran her finger over the red wax seal and felt the crest press into her palm. She felt her throat close up as she lifted it.

But she quickly dropped the letter at the light knocking on her door. 

She took a deep breath. “Yeah?” 

There was a still moment before the door popped open and her mother’s face was in view. “Hey sweetie.” She paused. “Lexa’s downstairs.” Her stomach twisted in the worst way at the name. Her mother noticed. “Do you want me to tell her to leave?” 

She let out a breath. “No.” She tucked a piece of wet hair behind her ear. “I’ll be down in a minute.” She smiled what she hoped to be reassuring as her mother gently shut the door. She took a moment and glanced at the empty spaces on the cork-board above her desk. Pictures where Lexa Woods used to be.

She made her way downstairs and took in Lexa’s appearance. The familiar ripped black tank, jeans shorts and black vans. 

She crossed her arms as she made her way before the petite brunette. “What are you doing here?” 

Lexa let out a breath and crossed her own arms. An onlooker would think they were preparing for battle and maybe they were. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

She scoffed at that. “Well, I’m fucking fantastic so you can leave.” 

Lexa didn’t falter and turn away. She thought back to the first time she had seen the curly haired beauty. She thought about the first time their lips touched. Now it just felt like something she could only compare to a dementor’s kiss. “Clarke. Come on.” Lexa’s voice was surprisingly low. “I care about you.” 

If she wasn’t so sad she might have laughed at the statement. “No. Wells cared about me.” She paused. _And now he’s dead because of me_ , she thought. 

Lexa took a breath. “I didn’t know, alright? No one could have known what was going to happen to him. I’m sorry he’s gone. I’m sorry Wells-.”

“You don’t get to talk about him.” She spat out. “You don’t get to say him name. Ever.” 

Lexa nodded, her lips forming a slight heart. “I’m sorry, Clarke.” 

She felt her hands shake. “Saying sorry doesn’t bring him back.” 

“Fair enough.” She stood still as Lexa took a deep breath. And just like she had done not even a week ago, she turned and left her alone.

It didn’t make the pain in her chest lessen.

She took a deep breath and headed up the stairs just as her mother was walking down. Her mother glanced at the door and empty foyer before she spoke. “I have some lasagna in the oven.” 

“I’m not hungry.” She mumbled as she looked up toward her door. “I’m going to go lay down if that’s alright.” 

“Of course.” Her mother said lightly as she reached and patted the side of her head. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” 

She nodded and made her way up toward her room. She glanced at the letter that still lay unopened on her desk. She took a breath and turned away, falling onto her bed instead.

...

“You sure you still want to do this?” 

She glanced up toward her mother as she reached for her book-bag. She tucked a piece of blonde hair behind her ear as she looked around the crowded terminal. “I kind of have to, don’t I?” She gripped the strap of her book-bag. “It’s required by law.” 

Her mother lightly rolled her eyes. “Your dad would understand if you wanted to stay home for the summer.” 

She had thought about it but for the past week she hadn’t set much of a foot outside of her room, let alone her house. Going to Alexandria, Virginia didn’t sound that bad the more she thought about it. Sure, she might be in her room there the entire time but at least she would be away from the small hell she had placed herself into. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

Her mother looked unsure but nodded anyway. “Alright. I told your dad to text me when your plane lands but he’ll probably forget.” She rolled her eyes. “So, text me alright? And remember to call me-.”

“Every Friday.” She supplied with a small smile. “This isn’t the first summer I’ve spent with dad, mom.” 

“I know.” Her mother said softly. It sounded like there was more she wanted to say but instead she reached in and kissed her forehead before she said her goodbye. 

As she passed through security, she saw her mother still rooted in the same spot. She shook her head and offered a lame wave as she walked toward her gate. 

She pulled out her headphones and placed them into her phone jack. She scrolled her fingers through a few playlists before she landed on one at the bottom. A playlist she didn’t make herself. _‘Wells’_.

She tapped the screen and before she knew it, classical music filled her ears. She felt tears well up in her eyes. She stopped walking and hastily closed out of the playlist and tapped one she used for running. The Jackson 5 soon jumped into her ears and she felt her heart slow down at the song.

She took a deep breath as she continued her journey toward her gate. 

The plane was delayed, like they mostly are, but four hours later, she was walking in the Reagan National Airport in search of her father. She peered over heads and jumped up and down until she spotted the familiar sandy blonde hair. 

She felt her legs break out into a run and soon, she slammed her body into the side of her father’s. He laughed a bit under his breath before he circled his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head and didn’t let go for what seemed like a small eternity. 

“Hey, kiddo.” His voice was soft and it made her clutch around him harder. His laughter was gone and she felt him squeeze her back. He didn’t need to say anything.

And for that she was grateful.

He just knew.

…

The house was bright yellow. 

It had always been bright yellow and it was the main reason she loved her father’s house. She still remembered the day she came for the summer to a freshly painted yellow house. The neighbors had complained every which way but her father refused to change it. 

The bright color almost hurt to look at now. 

She kicked at the rocks leading toward the front porch and was about to walk toward it before she felt a tug on her book-bag. She turned and saw her father with both of her duffel bags strung across his shoulders. There was a weird look on his face.

“What’s up?” She asked softly as she narrowed her eyes in curiosity. 

Her father took a breath, it made her nerves grow. “I haven’t had the time to really tell you but I met someone.” 

Her breath hitched slightly because in an ideal world, she always imagined her parents getting back together. She knew it wasn’t likely but she still dreamed about it, even as a seventeen-year-old girl. She knew why her parent’s didn’t work and she was grateful that they still maintained a respectful relationship but she had always just wished that they would fall back together eventually. 

Instead of voicing this she said, “Oh, well, that’s great. Yeah?” 

Her father’s tense look didn’t fade. “Yeah but Clarke. She uh-.”

“Your back!”

She turned her head and watched as a tanned woman with dark hair make her way toward them. She was in a pair of ripped jean capris and a pink tank top that made her skin glow against the bright color of the house. 

“We’re back.” Her father said with a strange tone. 

She gripped her book-bag straps and narrowed her eyes; it didn’t falter the woman before her. “I’m Anya. I’ve heard so much about you, Clarke. Your father has pretty much been counting down the days until you got here.”

There was laughter around her. She felt herself nod. She didn’t know what to say but she watched as her father and Anya exchanged a look. She swallowed and turned toward her father. “I’m kind of tired. I’m going to go lay down if that’s alright.”

“Sure.” Her father said quickly. “ You remember which room is yours?” 

She nodded and didn’t laugh at the attempted joke as she reached for her duffel bags. She glanced at Anya and felt a strained smile come across her face. “It was nice meeting you.” 

“You too.” Anya said more softly this time. The overexcited eager dried from her voice. 

She nodded and felt a bit bad for the brush off but she couldn’t handle anything else today. She made her way up the deck and into the house. It was different everywhere she turned, obviously a woman’s work but it wasn’t that bad. She was grateful though that her room was the same.

She shut the door and dropped her bags as she took in the familiar walls. She had prints of her favorite paintings scattered across the walls. Her favorite was the wall her father had painted for her two summers ago; it was an exact replica of Van Gogh’s _Starry Night_.

She went toward the wall and ran her fingers against the paint before she collapsed onto her bed. She could hear movement downstairs but she couldn’t bring it in herself to get up.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded envelope. She twirled it around in her hands before she stared at the unopened seal. She took a deep breath before she peeled it open.

_Clarke’s Summer Bucket List_

_\- Eat in front of the Lincoln Monument_  
_\- Hug someone named Nathan_  
_\- 59 Hamilton Ave. Ask for Octavia_  
_\- Dance until you fall over_  
_\- Learn how to ride a bike (honestly why is this my third time writing this?)_  
_\- Jump into the water_  
_\- Learn a new language_  
_\- Share some secrets in the dark_  
_\- Apply to your dream school._  
_\- Sing in front of strangers  
_ _\- Sleep under the stars_

_Try not to miss me too much. Until we meet again,_

_W_

She didn’t realize she was crying until the writing got hard to read. 

...


	2. Jump Into The Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: Enjoy and let me know what you think! I hope to update this weekly. All grammar mistakes are mine.]
> 
> Music Inspired: "Knocking On Heavens Door" by Bob Dylan and "Promise" by Ben Howard

**Two Years Before**

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as her gaze jumped around the terminal.

She giggled to herself when she saw a man with sandy blonde hair doing exactly the same thing. She instantly ran through the mass of people before jumping up and launching herself to the body she had missed so much over the past few weeks. 

Her father had moved out four months and although the thought caused her to wrinkle her brow and frown, she couldn’t help but be excited to be in his presence. He was ever the optimist and dreamer that never failed to make her feel like magic and all other good things, were real. 

She held onto him tighter. 

She missed the way he smelled like coffee and paint. She missed how he tried to dress fancy but his tie was always misplaced and his hands were always covered in whatever material he was using to create some kind of masterpiece. 

With her arms still wrapped around him she pulled her head away from his neck and grinned at him. 

His mouth was still somewhat open with laughter flowing from his tongue. He smiled at her before he carefully set her back onto the ground. “How was the ride?” 

She shrugged as her father picked up her duffel bags. “It was alright.” She reached into her pocket. “Got you peanuts.” 

He laughed as he pocketed the small red bag. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.” He paused. “I took the metro here. Is that alright?” 

She nodded her head rapidly. She had spent the night before researching different ways to get into the city with Wells. She had the small map he drew her in her book-bag along with the bucket list he had made her. “Oh wait!” She froze and so did he. “Good to see you, lassie.” 

He tilted his head in confusion before he laughed again in understanding. “Wells?” 

She nodded as they climbed the small flight of stairs toward the metro. She quickly reached behind her and made quick work of opening her book-bag and pulling out the familiar envelope. “He sent me with a bucket list.” 

He held out his hand and she placed it into his palm. She watched him take in the words with a smile before he looked down at her. “He sure is something.” There was a strange look on his face. “I missed having you guys around.” 

She thought about it then. How she was at home with her best friend, her mother and half of her family when her father was here. Ten hours away and alone. 

She shook the thoughts away from her head as he placed the list back into her hands. She stuffed it into her pocket and grinned at him. “So, how exactly yellow is the house?”

…

_“So the house really is yellow?”_

She laughed and fell back onto her back. She couldn’t shake the smile from her face as she stared at the swirls of blue and yellow on the wall across from her bed. She loved Van Gogh and her father had painted her favorite piece. 

“The house really is yellow.” She clutched the phone closer to her ear. “I wish you were here.” 

Being with her father was awesome. They laughed, ate pancakes for lunch and then dressed up and went to some fancy country club down in the city. But she still wished Wells was there for all of it, too. She knew he would laugh at all her father’s antics and she knew he would try to beat her at who could eat the most pancakes. 

_“Me too.”_ Wells said softly as he moved around. She tried to picture what he was doing. _“Our first summer apart since like, birth.”_

She glanced beside her bed to see the bucket list he had written her taped up against the wall. “Yeah, it’s weird.” She wrapped herself up more in her comforter. “How’s everything there?”

Wells made a grunting noise into the phone. _“Not much. My dad is still acting like we’re the perfect family but I beat my mile time.”_

She felt her face pinch up. Although her parents didn’t have the perfect marriage, they were always up front about it. When her mom was being a pain in the ass, her father told her and vice versa. Disagreements were talked about and for the most part, resolved.

It was never like that at the Jaha’s. If something happened, it was never thought of again. Ever. 

“I’m sorry.” She said softly into the phone. She wished she was there with him in this very moment. 

He didn’t say anything and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing. _“It’s alright. Tell me more about your day.”_

“You wouldn’t believe where we ate dinner. Dad got like super fancy.” 

_“This was after the pancakes for lunch, right?”_

She rolled her eyes but laughed. “Yeah but honestly. It was so beautiful. It’s called The Ark, I think?” She nodded at herself when she realized she was right. “Anyway. There’s this huge lake that’s behind it and I was so tempted to jump into it during dinner.”

_“You should do it next time you go.”_

She thought about the ‘NO SWIMMING’ sign she saw staked up before the water. “I don’t think you’re allowed to.” 

Wells was quiet for a moment and when he spoke, she could hear the smile in his voice. _“Sometimes you just gotta take that risk, Griffin.”_

…

**Now**

She woke up hours ago but she hadn’t left her bed. 

When she reached for her phone she realized she hadn’t left her bed in exactly two days. She felt her stomach grumble and with a slight groan, she lifted herself up and off of her bed. 

She stretched and rubbed at her eyes as she tried to wake up a bit more. She caught a small glimpse of herself in the mirror before she instantly turned away. She couldn’t stand the sight of herself. 

She yawned as she made her way outside of her room. She climbed down the stairs haltingly when she heard her father’s voice from somewhere downstairs. 

“I don’t know what to do, Abigail.” He voice was tight and it sounded different than anything she ever heard come from his mouth. “She hasn’t – yes, I know.” His voice grew slightly louder. “Do you really think being back there would help her right now?” 

She stood rooted in her place on the bottom step. She thought about being back at home. Being back at the place where she used to spend all her time with Wells. It hurt all at once. 

She couldn’t bare the thought of being in her room again without having Wells on the other end of the phone at the end of the day. She couldn’t imagine eating at Alpha Station Subs without him and laughing when he accidently got a tomato on his sub.

She couldn’t bare the thought of having a single person look at her the way they did at his funeral. The long stares. The awkward nods. The silence.

She took a deep breath and made her way into the kitchen. She caught her father’s eye and watched him smile softly at her in return. “I have to go. I’ll talk to her.” He dropped his phone onto the counter and brought a hand through his hair. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded and crossed her arms. He nodded in response and turned toward the fridge. “Was that mom?” She already knew it was but she couldn’t help herself from asking.

He paused for a minute as he pulled out a carton of eggs. “Yeah.” He looked up at her with a sad smile. A familiar smile to her but not one coming from his face. “She thinks you’d be better going back home.” His voice sounded sad. She wondered if he thought about how he only saw her during the summer and Thanksgiving because she did just then. “I told her it was your choice.” He turned toward the carton of eggs.

“I can’t go back there.” Her voice was eager, urgent. She was surprised that it was her own. She looked at the wooden floor beneath her toes. “I just. I can’t.” She glanced up to see eyes the same color of hers looking back at her. 

“Alright.” He still had a sad look upon his face. “But the minute you want to go home, you tell me.” 

She only stared in return. She took her spot at the small table and watched her father make her eggs despite the fact that it was almost one in the afternoon. She picked at the table and watched him. It was strange to think how this time last year, they were doing so many things and laughing, exchanging stories about the year before. 

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. “Where’s Anya?” 

A smile made its way to her father’s face then. “She’s a teacher at Georgetown.” He glanced at her as he scrambled eggs around in the frying pan. “She teaches Art History.” 

She nodded, realizing that she didn’t know anything about the other woman that was living with her father. “Where did you meet?” 

His smile only continued to grow. “She came to one of my showcases last fall.” 

It stung to think that her father met someone and failed to tell her when she saw him last but she couldn’t hold a grudge against him. He was a grown man and allowed to make his own decisions, even if she didn’t like the outcome. 

“That’s cool.” She supplied lamely. Her voice was still scratchy from the fact that she hadn’t been using it for two days.

Her father smiled as he placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of her. He grabbed his coffee cup and sat across from her. The mug was old and she could see her fifth grade handwriting scribbled across it as it read, ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ 

He took a sip of coffee before he glanced at her, his smile weaker and less bright than moments before. “It would mean a lot to me if you guys could get along.” He played with the mug handle. 

She chewed on the piece of toast but didn’t feel anything or taste it. She nodded and watched his smile grow again. 

She finished half of her plate before she rose up and wiped off the remains into the garbage. She placed the empty plate into the sink and turned toward her father. “I think I’m going to go for a run.” 

He looked surprised but nodded quickly. “Sure.” He took a final sip of coffee and placed it into the sink next to her plate “I’ll be out back if you need me.” 

She nodded and stared at him as he made his way outside before she turned around and made her way upstairs. 

Alone once again.

…

Her feet hurt after the second mile but she continued to make her way across the small town.

She felt the blood pumping in her bones and the music swimming around in her ears. She had settled on Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits but she found herself repeating the same song. Her feet moved to the soft voice singing about heaven’s door and when she reached a deserted sidewalk, she finally slowed down her pace.

She felt her legs already starting to ache. She used to run because she enjoyed it and now she found herself running to get away from things. 

When she ran she didn’t think about Lexa Woods. She didn’t think about the blood on her hands on the night she never wanted to remember. She didn’t think about the face Thelonious Jaha gave her when he first found out his son was dead.

Instead, she thought about the blood flowing throughout her body. She thought about her lungs inhaling and exhaling. She thought about her feet touching places they never came across before.

She liked running because it paused everything else. It paused the hurt that seemed wrapped around her heart like an emotional tether. It paused the sensation to drop everything and collapse onto the floor. It paused the nagging in the back of her head that told her that she didn’t deserve to be alive after what she had done.

She made her way toward a small wooden bench and fell onto it with an out of breath sigh. She glanced at her phone and saw a blank screen. No messages, no calls, not a single thing.

She pulled out her headphones and unlocked her screen. She took a deep breath and pressed the familiar contact and brought the phone up to her ear.

_‘Hey! You’ve reached Wells. I’m sorry I missed your call!’_

There was a slight pause before an automated voice came in to tell her to leave a message after the beep. She ended the call and then dialed it again.

_‘Hey! You’ve reached Wells. I’m sorry I missed your call!’_

She took a deep breath and waited for the beep. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She felt tears well up into her eyes before she ended the call quickly. 

She glanced around the empty street and shoved her headphones back into their place. She took a deep breath and ran.

Because running was all she knew how to do anymore.

…

She was brushing out her wet hair when there was a gentle knock on the door. 

It was almost five o’clock and she knew her father didn’t leave his studio above the garage for another few hours so she wasn’t surprised when the dark haired woman entered her room. 

“Hey.” Anya said softly. She was dressed in a pair of dark red pants and a gray t-shirt. The color looked good against her skin and she found herself envious of the dark contrast compared to her pale one. “I wondered if you wanted to get dinner with me.” 

Her mouth already was forming a denial but she thought about what her father had said only a few hours ago. _It would mean a lot to me if you guys could get along_. She glanced at the woman she barely knew and felt herself nod slowly in response. “Alright.” She glanced down at her shorts and tank top. “Should I change?” 

Anya shook her head. “Is The Ark alright? I’ve been craving their steak lately.” Her tone was light and the laughter didn’t sound forced as it left her lips. She found herself jealous of this fact. “If not we can find somewhere else around here.” 

“No, that sounds fine.” She forced a smile. “Just give me a few minutes to get ready.” 

Anya beamed. “Sure. I’ll just be downstairs.” 

She watched her go and felt her stomach clamp up at the thought of taking the metro about a half hour away to eat with someone she didn’t now anything about except her name. She finished getting ready without glancing in a mirror and made her way downstairs. 

Anya had written on the chalkboard wall in the kitchen that they would bring her father back something to eat. She stared at the word ‘ _Love, Anya and Clarke_ ’ underneath the neat handwriting. 

They didn’t talk much on the ride over; well she didn’t talk much on the ride over. Anya talked about her summer class and how much she liked teaching in the summer compared to the actual school year. She explained that people who took classes in the summer actually learn better. It didn’t make sense to her but she found herself listening anyway.

After the half hour ride on the metro, they took a taxi to the familiar country club. She found herself staring at the large brick covered building with memories building up against her brain. She remembered the first time she had gone with her father. They had shared shrimp appetizers and laughed for so long that the thought caused her lungs to almost heave of emptiness. 

As they walked toward their seats outside by the lake she thought of so many things and nothing at all.

“So, Clarke.” She took her eyes away from the dock leading toward the middle of the lake and glanced at Anya, whose face still held a small smile. “You’re going to be a senior next year, yeah?” 

She hadn’t thought about it much lately. She used to count down the days until her graduation date but now the slight thought caused her to shiver. “Uh, yeah.” She mumbled as she glanced around the full patio. Her eyes caught onto two boys laughing together at what appeared to be a small waiter station. One had curly, unruly hair and the other had hair shaved closely to his head. She took her eyes away and glanced back at Anya. 

Anya took a deep breath; obviously feeling the awkward tension as well. “Have you thought about college yet?” 

If she had asked her this question a year ago, she would have spoken about her top three schools but now, she had no clue what she would be doing in the next week let alone the next year. “No.” She said softly instead of supplying her lingering thoughts. She didn’t add anything else and she was grateful that Anya didn’t ask anymore questions.

She ordered a chicken salad that she barely touched. She was glad Anya didn’t ask why, either. 

…

She was laying in her bed facing the blue and yellow covered wall.

The house was still and quiet. She knew her father was back inside because he had poked his head into her room twenty-minutes ago. She pretended she was asleep.

But now her eyes were wide open and she couldn’t force them to close. She tried counting backward from one hundred and she tried listening to music but nothing helped.

She glanced at the end table next to her bed and saw the familiar envelope propped up against a stack of books. She reached for it and flipped it around in her hands before she opened it and pulled out the letter. 

Her eyes ran across the page before they settled on the task in the middle of it. Jump into the water.

Her eyebrows knitted together as she tried to think of what that had meant. She stared at the words for so long that when he came to her, she felt stupid for not knowing. Her brain racked into a conversation she had with Wells two years ago and suddenly, she knew exactly what she had to do.

She placed the letter gently back into the envelope before she jumped up and placed her running shoes onto her feet. 

She stuffed her phone and headphones into her pocket before she made her way out of her room. She tiptoed down the stairs and saw her father and Anya sitting together on the couch watching an old black and white movie.

She almost opened her mouth to tell them she was leaving but she didn’t want to explain it to them. Even if her father knew about Well’s previous bucket lists. 

She opened the door softly and stared at the back of their heads before she made her way out of it. It was colder than before but it wasn’t cold enough to make her ache for a jacket. 

She placed her headphones in and found herself running toward the metro. She wasn’t even out of breath when she found a seat on it. Her legs jumped up and down and she couldn’t sit still during the entire half hour ride.

Once she got to the familiar station, she found her legs moving without much thought. It took longer than it had earlier with the taxi to get to The Ark but she got there just fine.

There were a few cars in the parking lot but she continued to walk past them. She made her way down toward the dock and felt her bones shake in slight hesitation. The ‘NO SWIMMING’ sign was fresh in her mind as she kicked off her shoes and placed her phone and headphones into them. 

She glanced at the water and back toward The Ark.

_Sometimes you just gotta take that risk, Griffin._

The sentence came to her suddenly. The words continued to flow around in her brain and without much of second thought to change her mind, she jumped in.

The water was freezing when she submerged above the surface. She coughed out the water that made its way into her nose but once she took in the stars above her head and the cool water around her, she started to laugh. It was soft, gentle laughter that made her blood run warmer than it had in days even though the water was freezing.

She floated a bit in the water but as she made her way back toward the dock, she saw a boy around her age standing at the end of it. She couldn’t make out much of his face but she could tell that he was frowning. 

“Can you read?” 

She continued to keep afloat as she stared at him. He looked familiar but she couldn’t quite place it. She wondered where he even came from. Had he watched her jump in? The thoughts swam around in her mind. 

“Because the sign says no swimming.” 

She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to let some stupid boy ruin this moment for her. She still felt the high of jumping into the water but now the cold water was causing her skin to shake. “I can read just fine.” 

He huffed and she could see the slight air puffing from his lips. “Are you sure about that?” He looked irritated but he stuck his hand out anyway. 

She ignored it and pulled herself up and onto the deck herself. Her teeth clattered but she reached for her shoes anyway before she stared to walk away from him.

The boy pulled on her wrist. 

She turned and stared at him. His face was scrunched up in annoyance but she could still make out a few freckles against his tanned skin. He let out a breath as he dropped his grip from her wrist. He quickly shrugged out of the light jacket he was wearing and handed it out to her without a word.

She stared at the gray jacket but she looked back at his face. “What?”

He seemed to grow even more annoyed with her. “Just take it.” 

“Why?”

“So you don’t freeze to death.” 

She dropped her gaze at the word death and if the tall boy across from her noticed, he didn’t say anything but continued to hold out his jacket to her. She felt her shoulders continue to shake and despite her earlier agitation, she found herself reaching out for it. She set down her shoes and wrapped herself up into the jacket. It had fit him perfectly but it fell to just above her knees.

When she looked back up, he was staring at her. The annoyance wasn’t there but something else that she couldn’t quite place was now taking over his features. She glanced around before she settled her eyes back onto his. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah.” He said in a voice that was rough and deep and reminded her of the black and white movies her father loved so much. “Learn to read.” 

And with one final glance, he walked away from her.

She stared at his retreating form before she made her way home. 

…

When she got back, the house was completely dark.

She made her way into her room and quickly shed the jacket and the wet clothing she had been wearing. She changed into a pair of warm pajamas and made her way back into her bed. 

She still felt the slight high of jumping into the water. The memory of the water hitting her skin caused a smile to make its way toward her face. She reached for her phone and opened it to text Wells.

But then she remembered.

She dropped her phone and took a deep breath. 

She tried to focus on the feeling of jumping off the dock. How the water swarmed around her. How brave she felt. How alive she felt.

She turned on her side and took a deep breath as she closed her eyes.

Maybe tomorrow would be easier, maybe it wouldn’t. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring but she did know that she had a list that she needed to finish.

And with that final thought, she fell asleep. Sleeping better than she had in days. 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Clarke’s Summer Bucket List_   
>  _\- Eat in front of the Lincoln Monument_   
>  _\- Hug someone named Nathan_   
>  _\- 59 Hamilton Ave. Ask for Octavia_   
>  _\- Dance until you fall over_   
>  _\- Learn how to ride a bike (honestly why is this my third time writing this?)_   
>  _- ~~Jump into the water~~_   
>  _\- Learn a new language_   
>  _\- Share some secrets in the dark_   
>  _\- Apply to your dream school_   
>  _\- Sing in front of strangers_   
>  _\- Sleep under the stars_


	3. 59 Hamilton Ave. Ask for Octavia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: Sorry it took so long to update, life got kind of crazy. Enjoy and let me know what you think! I hope to update sooner rather than later. Come find me on tumblr // **augustusblakee** All grammar mistakes are mine.]
> 
> Music Inspired: "Bitter Water" by The Oh Hellos and "Home" by Will Hanson

**Two Years and Six Months Before**

What woke her up was the slamming of the front door.

She let her eyes adjust to the darkness in her room before she sat up and ran the short distance to the window that overlooked the driveway. 

She felt her heart speed up as she watched her father shove a duffel bag into the backseat of his car. 

She knew her parents had fought before. Logic and will against art and imaginary. Even after their darkest fights before, they would always find a way to fall back together. Her mother would buy her father new paints. Her father would kiss the spot behind her mother’s ear as he handed her a new painting.

As her father jumped into the drivers seat and started his car, she realized that wouldn’t probably happen ever again.

She watched him sit in his car for what seemed like hours. His hands tightening against the wheel, his eyes looking at her bedroom window even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

Part of her wanted to move and run to him. But part of her, the logical part of her, knew that it wouldn’t change anything.

She waited until the headlights of his car reversed and disappeared from view before she moved. 

She quickly threw on a sweater and shoved her feet into sneakers before she made her way down the stairs. She didn’t have to look into her mother’s study to know she was probably nursing a drink and listening to Nina Simone.

She made her way out of the large house and let her legs carry her.

She would have panted and fell over if it wasn’t for the adrenaline pumping in her veins. She saw images of her parents happy and together as she ran. She saw them kiss in the kitchen after they burned Thanksgiving dinner last year. She saw them at her band concert smiling and clapping after her cello solo. 

She saw them sitting in the living room. Her mother reading. Her father painting.

She would never see them that way again. She ran faster.

She came up toward the familiar sight and made her way toward the side of the large brick house. She felt the cold air finally as she came to a sudden stop.

The wind was flowing. The air was cold. Her heart was racing.

She grabbed the dead rose bushes and climbed her way toward the second floor balcony. Her breath was coming out in harsh white clouds as she straddled the railing to swing her legs over.

She made her way toward the window and opened it without hesitation.

“You know there is a door.”

Wells was lying on his bed with a book in his lap. He didn’t even look up at her.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t move.

He looked up then with a smile starting to grace his features. It dropped when he took in her face. He sat up and closed his book. She saw that it was Steinbeck. The worn out spine told her that he’s read it more than once.

“What’s wrong?” 

She took a breath as she pushed herself into the window. Her dirty sneakers making marks against his white carpet. She shook off the cold air as she quickly closed the window. She turned to him and let out a breath. “He left.”

He stood up then. “What?” 

She shook her head and shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweater. They were shaking and she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or not. “My dad. He’s – he’s gone.”

It was silent for a few moments. She could hear the wind against the window. She could hear the faint sound of jazz music. “Clarke.” 

She shook her head again. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “He left. I watched him leave. He’s not – I don’t think he’s coming back.”

Wells was closer. She could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, She could smell the freshness of his shower. He must of run earlier. “What do you need me to do?” 

That’s what was different about Wells. It was never a want with him. It was always a need and he knew it. 

“I don’t know.” She answered after a few minutes. She wasn’t sure how long. “I don’t know what to – I don’t know what I’m feeling.” 

“That’s alright.” His voice was soft, caring and kind. His voice was the voice of someone who loved her. “You don’t need to know.” 

The logical part of her was screaming. The creative part of her wanted to attack a canvas. 

“What do I do?” Her voice came out more as a cry than she would have wanted. She tried to picture herself. Blonde hair a mess. Face red and pearly white. Her eyes wide and tearful. “He’s – he’s gone.”

Wells wrapped his arms around her then. The embrace was tight and warm and everything she needed in that moment. “You’ll be okay.” 

“How do you know that?” 

He pulled back and smiled down at her. “You have me.” He rubbed her back. “You’ll always have me.”

She wanted to tell him the same but the words were too much.

They stood there for what seemed like hours and maybe it was until Wells clapped his hands and nodded toward his desk. “Want to see something?” He didn’t wait for her answer as he walked toward his desk. “I made something.” 

He fiddled around before he flicked on something and reached for his bedroom light. 

The room was covered in constellations and stars. Universes she wanted to see. She reached for them even though she couldn’t touch them. “How did you make this?” 

Wells shrugged it off, like it was nothing and laid out onto his floor. “I was bored.”

She felt a chuckle erupt from her throat. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she plopped herself down onto the floor next to him. “This is amazing.” 

He nudged her but didn’t reply to her comment. Instead, putting to the left of her. “That one reminds me of you.”

She focused on the hard lines of the constellation. “What is it?” 

“A phoenix” He lowered his hand and settled it onto his stomach. “They’re strong, like you.” 

She turned her head and looked at him. “You think so?”

He reached over and tapped her nose. “I know so.”

She nodded and offered him a weak attempt of a smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled that smile. The one that made her feel strong. Made her feel safe. “You’ll never have to question that.” Even though he smiled, it looked sad. “I'll never leave you .”

…

**Now**

Her eyes opened quickly. 

She blinked at the light before she sat up when the noise sounded again. 

She threw her legs over the side of her bed and stood up quickly. She wiped at her eyes as she made her way out of the hallway and down the stairs. 

She reached the bottom step and listened for the noise again. It was coming from outside. She quickly made her way outside and onto the front deck. Her father was there. A box of tools and paint beside him. “What are you doing?” 

He turned his head in surprise; a smile slowly making it’s way toward his face as he stood up. “You’re up early.”

She felt a small grimace make its way toward her face. Based on the sun in the sky and her father’s half empty cup of coffee, she knew it was well past noon. “I guess.” She nodded toward the pile of wood on the deck. “What are you making?”

Her father let out a breath and placed his hands onto his hips as he took in the wood and paint beside him as well. “I’m making a swing.”

“A swing?” She crossed her arms. “Do you even know how to make a swing?” 

“No.” He answered quickly but turned toward her with a smirk. “But I’m not one to really follow the rules now, am I?” 

She smiled slightly herself. She thought of the tree house he had built her years ago. It was no longer in the backyard but when it was, she used to spend hours and hours in it. 

She rubbed her arms at the slight cool wind as she looked out onto the yard. Two children next door were playing a game and laughing loudly at one another. She looked away. Her heart slightly running. “Where’s Anya?” 

Her father’s smile grew as he reached down and started to nail a few pieces of wood together. “She’s at class.” He turned toward her, still nailing a piece of wood. “Want to help me out?”

She thought about the list she had looked at before bed. “Maybe later.” She paused and bit her lip. “Do you know how to get to Hamilton Avenue from here?” 

Her father dropped his hammer and turned toward her with a line in his brow. “It’s about ten blocks.” He looked at her, the line increasing. “Why?” 

She wanted to tell him about the list but she also didn’t want to at all. Instead, she shrugged and offered him a weak smile. “I heard Anya say something about it.” 

“What’s the address?” 

Her eyes grew wide as she swallowed. “Uh- 59 Hamilton Avenue.” 

“I’ve never heard of it.” He frowned. 

“It was in passing.” She quickly added. “It must have caught her eye or something.” 

He seemed to accept this as an answer because he turned back to his project.

She didn’t say anything else.

…

She changed into a pair of short and a floral tank-top that she hadn’t wore in awhile.

She sighed at herself in the mirror, looking everywhere but at her face. Her legs were alright and her stomach wasn’t completely flat but she liked it that way. She liked her curves, well most of the time. 

She turned away and shoved the wrinkled up list into the back pocket of her shorts. She then threw her bag over her chest so it fell down onto her hip. 

She threw her hair into a quick braid and then made her way downstairs. Her father wasn’t on the porch anymore but there was a half put together swing in his place. She smiled slightly at the sight as she made her way down and onto the sidewalk.

She shoved her headphones into her ears and started to walk.

Her father wasn’t joking when he said Hamilton Avenue was about ten blocks away. 

She felt sweat drip down her face and chest as she walked along the cracked up sidewalk. She wiped at her forehead and continued on, Joni Mitchell playing in her ears.

It took twenty-five minutes until she came across 59 Hamilton Avenue. She was on the wrong side of the street and if she hadn’t been looking for the address, she might have missed it.

 _Blake’s Antiques_.

The building was small and placed between a hardware store and a fast food restaurant. The E in Blake’s looked like it was about to fall off. She took out her headphones and twisted them around her phone before she threw both of them into her bag. 

She sighed and quickly crossed the street. She pushed open the door and welcomed the cool air. 

She had one foot in the door when someone yelled out. “One second!” 

She nodded even though no one was in sight. She looked around the store. It was messy but organized at the same time. There were canvases hung around the room. The initial NM in the corner. There were other various things that you would find at an antique store, too. Window frames, doorknobs and jewelry were scattered around.

It was nice. 

“Hi.” She turned her head suddenly and came face to face with a tall brunette. The girl was attractive and slim. Her skin wasn’t dark but it wasn’t as pale as hers. “How can I help you?”

She looked down at the ground before she looked back up. “I’m uh – I’m supposed to ask for Octavia?”

A look of defense washed over the girls face for a split second before a grin came on instead. “You came!” She jumped slightly and went toward the register, reaching down for something before placing it onto the counter. She was about to hand over the neatly wrapped box before she pulled her hand back. “Wait! I’m supposed to ask you question before I give it to you.”

Her pulse started to race. “Wha - what question?” 

The girl, Octavia she assumed, grinned. “Though he is small, he has a big heart. Who is his friend to help it all end?” 

Her eyes grew wide. “That’s more of a riddle.”

Octavia narrowed her eyes slightly but smiled anyway. “I was told I couldn’t give you this until you answered. He made sure of that.”

“What – what was his name?” 

Octavia closed her eyes in thought before she opened them with a sheepish smile. “Wells, something. I’m not good at names.” She paused. “He was very clear about what he wanted though.” She paused again. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No.” She answered quickly. She hoped her tone was enough to stop the questions. It was. 

“Right.” Octavia mumbled as she scratched at the side of her head. “Do you know the answer?” 

She racked in her brain. She wasn’t sure what the answer was. She thought and thought until it suddenly came into her brain out of nowhere. Steinbeck. “George.” She said quickly. “George Milton.”

“Yes!” Octavia said with a breathtaking grin. “I didn’t get it. Bell did.” She snorted. “He’s obsessed with Steinbeck.” 

She nodded as she took in the small box. She tossed it around in her hands until she opened it slowly. A necklace came into view. It was silver and it held a pendant that had stones aligned in a specific way. 

“It’s a constellation.” Octavia supplied softly. “A phoenix.” 

She ran her finger over the pendant a few times before she looked up. “Did you – did you make this?”

“No.” Octavia said with a grin still adorning her features. “Bell – Bellamy, my brother, he makes them.” Her grin grew slightly sad. She wondered why but she didn’t care to ask. “We don’t get a lot of requests for constellations that aren’t horoscopes.” She shrugged. “Bellamy was excited about the challenge.”

“Yeah.” She added lamely as she closed the box, shoving it lightly into her bag. “Do I need to pay you or anything?”

“Nope.” Octavia said, stressing the ‘p’ at the end. “Your friend paid for it in full.” 

Her heart raced at the thought of Wells. Finding and contacting a small business in her father’s hometown to give her something like this. Part of her hated him for him. The other part of her didn’t know what to feel. 

She was about to say something when another person’s voice filled the air around them. “O? I got lunch.”

She turned her head and saw a curly head of hair walk in from the front door. When he looked up, he breath caught.

The boy from The Ark. 

She thought about the jacket hanging on the back of her desk chair. She never thought she would see him again and here he was. 

She realized she missed half of whatever conversation was occurring around her when two eyes stared at her in confusion. “Sorry what?”

Octavia smiled. “Sorry my brother is being so rude.” 

She turned her head and watched the boy roll his eyes. She swallowed and looked at him. “Thank you for the jacket.” 

He stared back at her before he nodded. “It’s whatever.”

“No.” She mumbled. “I’ll bring it back to you.” 

He looked at her then and she felt strange. She felt naked. Exposed. Something inside of her started to race. Her blood began to pump. She looked away. 

She heard Octavia ask what jacket but neither of them supplied an answer. 

She mumbled out a thank you before walking past them and out of the store. 

She ran home.

…

The porch swing was finished by the time she got home.

Dinner was also finished.

She found herself sitting next to Anya as she chatted happily to her father about her class that day. 

Her father smiled at Anya before he turned to her. “Did you find what you were looking for?” 

“What’s that?” Anya asked softly as she twirled a piece of pasta on her plate. 

Her father turned toward Anya, slightly confused. “She said you told her about a store? On Hamilton Avenue.”

She stared down at the table. She expected Anya to rat her out and she waited for it. 

It didn’t come. 

She felt Anya’s eyes on her, though. “Right. Did you find what you were looking for, Clarke?” 

She nodded and thought of the necklace that was hanging above her heart. “I did.” 

She didn’t say anything else for the rest of dinner. 

Anya didn’t either.

…

She clutched the jacket in her hands as she stood across the street in the same spot she was in yesterday. 

She let out a breath before she quickly made her way into the store.

Octavia wasn’t there but Bellamy was. He was working on something at the front counter. He was so absorbed that he didn’t look up until the door closed behind her.

He stood up straight, glanced at the jacket in her hands and then her face. His gaze wasn’t as intense as it was yesterday. If anything, he barely looked at her. “Didn’t think you’d be back.”

She scowled. “I said I would be.”

He smirked and tinkered with something before him before he glanced at her. “What’s your name?” 

“Clarke.”

“Bellamy.”

“I know.”

He smirked again before he shook his head at himself. She wondered what he was thinking and she hated herself for wondering. “Where are you from?”

She tossed his jacket onto the counter. His smirk grew. “Why do you care?” 

“I don’t.” His tone was clipped. She looked at his face. His skin was tan against the white of his shirt. His face was covered in freckles. It reminded her of the constellation that hung warm against her neck. “Swimming in any closed off areas, lately?” 

Her scowl only grew. His grin grew as well. “No.” 

They fell into silence. He huffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re quite the talker.” 

“You don’t know me.” 

He nodded and perked his lips. “You got me there.” 

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and let out a breath. “Thanks for the jacket.” 

He didn’t add anything so she turned away, determined to get quickly away from him.

Her hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again. “Do you like it?” She turned toward him, her face tilted slightly in confusion. He looked young then. Boyish. Handsome. Not the boy she saw moments before. “The necklace?”

She brought her hand toward her chest without thinking. She felt the pendent underneath her tank-top. “Yes.” She dropped her hand. “It’s beautiful.” 

He nodded and turned back toward his work. 

She left, thinking she would never see him again.

She was wrong. 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Clarke’s Summer Bucket List_   
>  _\- Eat in front of the Lincoln Monument_   
>  _\- Hug someone named Nathan_   
>  _- ~~59 Hamilton Ave. Ask for Octavia~~_   
>  _\- Dance until you fall over_   
>  _\- Learn how to ride a bike (honestly why is this my third time writing this?)_   
>  _- ~~Jump into the water~~_   
>  _\- Learn a new language_   
>  _\- Share some secrets in the dark_   
>  _\- Apply to your dream school_   
>  _\- Sing in front of strangers_   
>  _\- Sleep under the stars_


	4. Eat in Front of the Lincoln Monument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: I am so sorry this took almost six months to update. I am trash. My only excuse is that life kind of got in the way but I should be on track. How did you all feel about this past season?? I didn't have cable, so I finally am all caught up after watching the entire season straight through a few days ago {thanks hulu!!}. I'm not as active on tumblr, but I still occasionally check it, so if you want to reach me, either here or there! I am committed to finishing this story and my other WIP but other than that, I think my days as writing for the 100 are almost over! Luckily, this story has a bit more to tell. I took the game Bellamy and Clarke play from Sarah Dessen's novel, _The Truth About Forever_ , it's one of my all time favorite's and it's a game I even play with my friends and it will be an important part of this story. Enough of me rambling, I hope you enjoy the new update and I hope to give you another chapter before the next six months :) All grammar mistakes are **mine** ]
> 
> Music Inspired: I Surrender by Aron Wright

**One Year and Eight Months Before**

She could tell he was nervous from the way he walked.

His shoulders were tight and with every step he seemed to take, the tension grew. 

She wiped a few loose hairs from her ponytail out of her face as she tried to warm up her hands. It was fall now and it was evident that the hot heat that used to overwhelm her during races was long, long gone.

“Just a few minutes now.” 

She turned her head as Thelonious Jaha made his way beside her. She offered him a tight smile. This was the first race Thelonious has made himself present for. He would make an appearance to the last and most important race of his son’s life.

“Yeah.” She offers lamely as she looks back onto the track. The number twenty-three shining in her eyes. “He’s been nervous about it.” 

Thelonious either didn’t hear or chose not to answer the statement. She wasn’t surprised. Thelonious wasn’t the most attentive parent but she couldn’t blame him. He was born from poverty and built his way up. He made this evident in speeches she watched with Wells on the television as they grew up or even in person at awkward events with fancy food that made them spit up into their napkins. 

“I didn’t know you ran, Clarke.” 

She took her eyes off the track and turned toward the features that matched the ones she knew almost perfectly. It was clear that Thelonious and Wells were father and son. They both had defined jaws with dips in their chins. They had the same eyes. Though Wells were more open, were softer in a way that couldn’t be explained. 

“I started training this past summer.” Not that you would know, she wanted to add. 

Thelonious made an impressed sound before he offered her a smile she saw on billboards. “Well, I’ll see you when it’s over then.” 

She didn’t say anything but it didn’t matter because he was already walking away. She let out a breath and turned her attention back toward the track. Her head tilted in confusion as she saw Wells walking toward her once his father was out of sight. 

“Wrong direction, Mr. Ja-.” She paused as she took in the look on his face. She reached her hand out and watched the porcelain veins of her hand wrap around his dark wrist. “Wells?”

Wells looked at her like he just noticed her, even though he had been the one to walk in her direction. His eyes were wide and his hands were shaking. This surprised her because she was usually the one on the verge of panic and anxiety. Never him. Never Wells Jaha. 

Wells was the strong one. Always the first to raise his hand in class. Always the first to stand beside her with a smile that could move mountains. 

“I can’t do it.” 

“What?” She stepped in closer to him. “You’ve been waiting for this race all year.” She tried to get him to look at her directly. When he wouldn’t, she brought her hand to his jaw and forced him. “What’s going on?”

He let out a breath that was harsh and soft at the same time. His nostrils flared as he tilted his head into the direction she knew his father would be in. “I didn’t know he was coming.” 

Figures. She glances briefly to see Thelonious laughing at something a woman in red was saying. She turned her head back and thought quickly on her feet. “Hey. Just ignore him.” He gives her a look. “I’m serious. I didn’t train all summer without you to stand here and watch you give up. I didn’t run ten miles for my health here.” She offers him a smile. “You go out there and you ignore him and you run for yourself, alright?” 

The wind picks up but she doesn’t feel it anymore. The chill that once overwhelmed her bones now felt like nothing but gentle push against her skin. 

“You run for yourself.” She says softly but it comes out more fiercely than she planned it too. “You don’t run for him. You don’t run for me. You run for you.” 

After a few seconds, he nods and lets out a breath. She watches the cold air float around her face. His jaw loosens. His eyes grow more focused. 

They don’t say anything else but she presses their foreheads together for a brief moment. He smells like crisp fall and slightly of sweat. She feels a light laugh on her lips as she pulls away and smiles at him. 

His smile is almost breathtaking from the way it stretches across his face. Thelonious might be able to win over their state for his position in politics, but Wells Jaha could win over the world with just a smile. 

He nods his head even though she doesn’t say anything and kisses her hair before he turns around and heads back toward the track. He jumps a few times to pump up his legs before he stands in the first lane. 

He’s ready. 

She smiles and claps her hands together with pride.

She cheers as all the runners get in line. Even though her own race is over, her adrenaline is pumping.

This is her favorite part of running. The rush of energy. The excitment. The unknown. 

“Boyfriend?” 

She turns her head but only enough to make out the brunette beside her. From her frizzy hair and outfit she places her as one of the girls she ran against earlier. The girl got second place.

She got sixth.

“No.” The question isn’t unfamiliar. She thinks about the embrace she was in moments ago. The way they work in sync. No one would understand. 

The gun goes off and she watches the runners take off. She watches Wells as he makes his way toward the middle of the cluster. She knows his pace. Knows that he’ll become a Trojan Horse halfway and pass everyone. He’ll probably place in the top three. She’s sure of it.

“Good for me then.” She turns her head, forgetting that she wasn’t standing alone. “I’m Lexa. Lexa Woods.” 

She takes in the brunette again. Takes in her pouty but full lips. The way her smile seems rare and delicate and that she somehow is special to be on the end of it. 

She smiles and reaches out her hand. “Clarke.”

...

**Now**

She wakes up with a jolt.

Her skin is flushed and her pulse is rushing. She tries to recall her dream but the only thing that comes to mind is color and a song she heard on the radio last night before she fell asleep. 

She slowly lies back down and tries to calm down. She reaches onto her end table and grabs her phone. It’s a bit after eight in the morning but she figures she has some time to kill before she actually needs to get out of bed.

She chews on her lip and unlocks her phone. 

She had been avoiding social media for the past few months. 

She bites on her bottom lip before she opens up the familiar blue icon app. She sees a few things that aren’t uncommon. Her conservative family posting about anti-abortion laws, republican candidates and silly things that don’t even matter in the end of things. 

She scrolls a bit before something pops up that catches her eye. Something she knew would happen.

It’s an article from a news station that Glass Walden shared. She clicks on it without much hesitation. Her breathing comes out harsher and her eyes squint harder to try and read. It doesn’t click that she’s crying until she reads the words, Wells Jaha and undeserving death in the same sentence. 

She throws her phone across the room and brings her hands toward her eyes. She tries to calm down but she can’t. She thinks about that night.

The way she was on that dreadful night. 

The last thought Wells Jaha probably had of her, was that he hated her. Not that she blamed him. She would hate herself, too.

She did hate herself. 

There’s a knock on her door then. 

She wipes at her eyes and breathes out a thick and loud, “What?”

It’s met with silence and for a few breaths, she feels bad. She sits up on her bed but doesn’t make an effort to head toward the door. 

“I wondered if you were hungry.” Anya. A frown twists from her mouth. She thinks about how the brunette covered for her two nights ago. Anya didn’t have to go along with it, but she did. 

“I’ll be out in a second.” Her voice is softer, scratchier. She wants to apologize for her tone but she knows from the sound of the broken step, that Anya was already making her way downstairs.

She climbs out of bed and threw on a pair of jean shorts and a white tank top. She makes her bed, and picks up her phone but places it into her dresser drawer instead of it’s familiar place in her back pocket. 

Instead, she reaches for the somewhat wrinkled list and shoves it into her back pocket. 

She wipes at her eyes again before she opens the door and heads downstairs herself. She smells pancakes and can hear a pop station playing from the kitchen.

She bites her lip in guilt but makes her way into the kitchen. 

“Hey.” 

Anya turns from the stove and offers her a smile. “Morning.” Anya gestures toward the coffee pot. “Help yourself. Your dad went into the city today to pick up some pieces for his next project.” She turns her back toward the stove but continues to speak. “I wondered if you wanted to go with me into the city. I have two classes and I thought you might be interested.” 

She thinks about Anya covering for her at dinner two nights ago, again. Thinks about how this person who didn’t even know her, took the cover for her. She lets out a breath as she goes to pour herself a cup of coffee. 

“Sounds good.” 

Anya nods as she places two golden pancakes onto a bright blue plate. She turns and smiles as she hands the plate over.

She nods in thanks and makes her way toward the kitchen table where syrup and butter was already placed. Anya remains by the sink drinking tea. “Did you eat already?”

Anya looks slightly lost in thought but she shakes her head. “I think I have a bug or something.” She takes a sip of tea. “I haven’t been that hungry.” 

She cut into her pancakes. “Are you okay?” 

Anya waves her off and her smile grows. “I’m going to go get ready. You’ll be ready to go in about twenty?”

She bites into a pancake as she nods her head. Anya smiles, turns off the radio and walks out of the room. 

She finishes her pancakes in silence.

...

Anya was a pretty good teacher. 

She watched as her first class all listened to her as she talked about impressionists and painting techniques. 

She found herself listening as well, a smile dancing across her mouth even as Anya cracked a few wise jokes that worked with her lecture.

She was getting ready for Anya’s second class from her spot in the back when she noticed him.

Not that she was the only one to notice him, either.

Bellamy. His name feels thick on her tongue.

His hair was crazier that usual. A mess of black tangles and curls that look purposeful but on some level she knows they aren’t. He’s dressed up a bit more than he was at the store, a plaid long sleeve shirt and a pair of khakis seem to make him look better than anyone else in the room.

He makes his way to the middle row and sits down next to a boy in a beanie. 

She watches him as Anya projects the first piece, starting her lecture. 

Though the boy he is sitting next to is clearly doodling in his journal, bored, Bellamy is sitting up and taking notes. Writing down almost everything Anya is saying about the piece. His lip is stuck between his teeth as he jots down in his own journal quickly. She wonders what his handwriting looks like. Would it be neat and blocky or scratchy and loopy? She takes in his hair and the motion of his hand and agrees that it’s most likely the second. 

She is watching his jaw by the time he tilts his head up and catches her eye. Her face grows flushed as she sees that he’s placing her. She turns her head quickly and focuses on the next slide Anya puts up. 

She can feel his gaze a few times but she doesn’t look over, despite the strong urge she has to do so. 

After another hour, Anya ends the class and turns on all the lights. 

She pushes herself out of her desk and watches as Bellamy and his friend do the same. 

She takes a deep breath and starts to walk toward the front of the classroom but she doesn’t make it that far. 

“Clarke.” 

She nods and makes her way toward the boy she was trying to avoid. “Bellamy.” Saying his name makes her throat close up slightly in intimidation. He’s attractive and clearly older than her if he’s taking a college course. 

“Did you just join the class?” He doesn’t look at her as he tucks a pencil behind his ear. “I didn’t notice you last week.”  
She wonders what he means by that. Would he have noticed her? Would she be someone to catch his eye? She stops her thoughts quickly. “No.” She looks at Anya packing away her things in the front. “Anya asked me to come watch her class.” 

Bellamy stares at her and shrugs, like he doesn’t really care but accepts her answer anyway. He gestures toward the boy next to him. “This is Miller.” 

She nods her head. “Clarke.” 

Miller stares at her for a moment and she takes in his deep and dark features. They feel familiar. She glances at her feet. 

“Nice to meet you.” 

She looks up and offers a smile that feels strange on her own face. “Like wise.” She tucks her hands into the back pocket of her jean shorts. “Well, I should get -.”

“Mr. Blake.” Anya comes up to them with a bright smile; a paper is clutched in her hands. She hands it over to Bellamy. “Good work.”

Bellamy looks sheepish but confident as he grabs the paper. She sees a few pieces of red on it but it’s otherwise almost completely white. 

“Thanks, again.” Bellamy says and she takes in the different tone of his voice. He sounds confident and boyish and young all at once. 

“Not a problem.” Anya says as she pushes a piece of hair behind her ear. “I always like when first years ask for my help.” Anya seems to finally notice her standing there as well. “Do you know each other?” Her tone is curious and also slightly protective. She stares at Anya for a few seconds.

“I went to his store the other day.” She mumbles out and she watches something of realization wash over Anya’s face. “The one on Hamilton.” 

“It’s not my store.” Bellamy says and it’s completely boyish. “It’s my family store. Blake’s Antiques.”

Anya nods slowly and smiles the way adults do when they don’t really know what else to say. “I guess I’ll have to check it out sometime.” 

She realizes then that she’s wearing the necklace Bellamy made. She looks at him to see him staring at it as well. He looks cocky then more than boyish. She stared at her feet. 

“I have a few things to finish up in my office.” 

She glanced at Anya and realized what she was offering. An escape or a chance to stay. She turned and glanced at Bellamy, who was already looking at her with a slight smirk. 

“Fourth floor, right?” Anya nodded. “I’ll come find you in a bit.” Anya smiled at her before she nodded and excused herself from the small group.

They all stood around for a few seconds before Miller turns to her. He looks annoyed but content at the same time. The look oddly suits him. “You hungry?”

“What?” 

The irritation on Miller’s face grows. “Do you want to eat with us or not?” 

She turns and looks at Bellamy. He continues to smirk at her but his eyebrows are raised in curiosity, almost challenging her. 

“Where at?” 

Bellamy speaks then. “I know a place.”

...

“So how is it?” 

She takes another bite of her hot dog and rolls her eyes. The hotdog is plain and simple covered in onions and mustard. Bellamy claimed it was the “best hot dog in the city”.

It wasn’t.

“Um.” She swallows and finishes her bite. “Interesting.”

Miller laughs and takes another bite of his hotdog covered in onions and hot sauce. “Told you they were gross, man.”

Bellamy shakes his head and shoves his hot dog into his mouth. His is covered in mustard, ketchup, onions and hot sauce. She bet it masks the actual taste. 

She finishes hers though, and turns to them. She learned on the walk over that Bellamy and Miller were best friends since fifth grade. That Miller’s dad worked for the government and that Bellamy’s mother ran the store but she wasn’t lately because she had been sick. 

She didn’t ask what was wrong with her and Bellamy made it evident he didn’t want to talk about it.

She also learned that Bellamy worked at The Ark, his family store and a coffee place called Grounders. He was going into his second year of college to major in art restoration and the only reason Miller, a law student, was taking Anya's art history class with Bellamy was because he lost a bet.

She mostly listened to them ramble on and added a few things here and there. It was weird talking to people her own age. 

It was weird being around people that didn’t know her. Didn’t know what she did. 

It was comforting. It made her feel still. 

“Hey.” Bellamy caught her attention, gesturing toward the large pool of water across from them. “Found a place for you to swim next.”

She rolls her eyes and takes in the ‘NO SWIMMING’ sign. “Funny.” She wipes at the corner of her mouth. She was about to come back with a witty reply when something else came to her mind. “Hey, where’s the Lincoln Monument?”

Miller pointed out in front of them. “That way.” He popped a cigarette into his mouth. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people.” 

She rolls her eyes and thinks about the list in her pocket. “There’s just something I have to do.”

This seems to get Bellamy’s attention. “What?” 

She thinks about the list in her pocket again. She never shared her summer lists from Wells with anyone but her father. She hadn’t shared this one with her father and she didn’t feel like sharing it with anyone. It was hers and it was her last – she froze her thoughts and shook her head. “I just told someone I would eat at the Lincoln Monument.” 

The pair looks confused and annoyed but they glance at each other and she watches an unspoken conversation happen between them. 

Bellamy wipes off his hands on his jeans as he stands up from the steps they were sitting upon. “We better start walking then.”

She stands up quickly. “You don’t need to come with me.” 

“But I think I do.” Bellamy says quickly. “If you find a better hot dog than Sterling’s Hot Dogz, I’m going to need to know about it. I take hot dogs very seriously.” 

She bites her lip and watches as Miller stands up too, stretching. He puffs out gray smoke from his cigarette. The smell is familiar but she stops her thoughts. 

“Enjoy your quest. I’m gonna head to the store for my shift.” She wonders if Miller works at Blake’s Antiques as well. From the way Bellamy says he’ll see him later, she realizes she’s correct.

They say their goodbyes and Miller grunts out a 'see you later'. She doesn’t take it personally that his tone isn’t inviting because she assumes that’s just who Miller is. 

She crosses her arms and starts to walk beside Bellamy, which suddenly becomes awkward and strange and exciting at the same time.

She can’t remember the last time she hung out with someone beside a parent or adult. She can’t remember the last time she actually wanted too.

“So, we have a bit of a walk and we can do it in silence or we can play a game.” 

“A game?” She asks dryly as they fall into step with another. 

“Yep.” He pops the end of the word and she can hear his grin. “It’s called Truth.”

She turns her head and glances at him as they keep walking “Like truth and dare?” 

“Sort of. Not really. Actually no.” Bellamy gets out as he adjusts the messenger bag across his chest. “I can’t tell you how it’s played until you agree to play.” 

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I didn’t make the rules.”

She glances at him again and catches his eyes. He looks softer than he did from the past three times she’s interacted with him. She wonders if he was thinking the same thing about her. She lets out a breath. “Try me.”

“Alright.” His hands grow a bit animated as he speaks. “Rules are pretty simple. First rule, you can’t talk about the rules until all players agree to play.” He holds up two fingers. “Second rule, you ask a question and the other person has to tell the truth. If they won’t answer, and you answer the next question they ask you, you win.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” 

She looks at him and slowly nods. “Alright. You first.” 

“What’s your last name?” 

She rolls her eyes and lets out a soft laugh at the fact that she was in fact walking with someone who didn’t even know what her last name was. “Griffin.” 

“Makes sense.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Mysterious girl, mysterious last name.” 

She bites her tongue and looks up to see the Lincoln Monument far in the distance. “Alright. Let’s see.” She thinks and hums slightly to herself. “How long have you lived in DC?”

“I live in Alexandria but basically my whole life.” 

“Basically?” 

“It’s my turn.” He pauses and looks at her. “Where are you from?” 

“Boston.” She quickly spits out. “Where else have you lived?”

“The Philippines.” His tone is clipped. “How do you know Professor Lachman?” 

“She’s dating my dad.” She shrugs. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be twenty in August.” He clicks his tongue against his cheek. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.” She mutters, trying not to think of her birthday. Trying not to think about anything involving the number, involving the date. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Besides gross sidewalk hotdogs?” 

She laughs, finally. “Besides gross sidewalk hotdogs.”

“Lumpia.” He says with a smile on his face. “My mom makes them for me on my birthday.” The monument grows closer. “What’s your favorite color?”

She laughs again at the simple question. “It changes everyday.” 

Bellamy nods. “Acceptable answer.” 

The come to the base of the stairs leading up to the monument. It’s crowded and people all around them are snapping photos. She lets her eyes wander around before she spots a hot dog stand. “Come on.” 

They get their hotdogs and climb up the steps. She glances at the large monument and feels her breath catch. It truly was a beautiful sight.

“So last question of the day.” 

She takes a bite of her hotdog. It’s not as terrible as the last one but it’s also not good. She only paid a dollar fifty for it, though. “Alright.” 

“What’s the deal with eating in front of one of the most touristy places downtown?” 

The list feels thick in her pocket. She picks her words. “I told someone I would. I don’t want to let him down.” 

“Would you?” He’s not looking at her but at the hotdog in his lap. There’s mustard on the side of his mouth. 

“Isn’t that two questions?” 

He turns to her then and his smile is bright and wide. She smiles in return. “You got me there.”

They finish their hotdogs in silence. She balls up the wrappings and turns toward the monument. It’s larger and smaller in person. She feels the pendant necklace against her chest. 

As she stares up she knows why this was on the list. 

She can’t wait to check it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke’s Summer Bucket List  
> \- ~~Eat in front of the Lincoln Monument~~  
>  \- Hug someone named Nathan  
> \- ~~59 Hamilton Ave. Ask for Octavia~~  
>  \- Dance until you fall over  
> \- Learn how to ride a bike (honestly why is this my third time writing this?)  
> \- ~~Jump into the water~~  
>  \- Learn a new language  
> \- Share some secrets in the dark  
> \- Apply to your dream school  
> \- Sing in front of strangers  
> \- Sleep under the stars


End file.
